A Different League
by Sero Dace
Summary: Nothing can remain normal in Harry Potter's life. A world on the verge of a Wizarding War is not enough, as another world reaches out to our favourite wizard through a faulty experiment. Here, young Harry learns the value of Justice in a new League...


He was surrounded by an endless black void.

It was cold here, for the rest, there was nothing here. He couldn't see or feel anything. It left him very confused. The teen didn't know where he was. He didn't even know how he ended up here or what had happened. Then, vague flashes started entering him mind. A series of swirling colours, the cackling of an insane woman mixed with the silky drawl of a voice he recognized and the scent of burned flesh. Black-robed, white-masked men hoarding him and his friends together, forcing him to give up a glowing orb. An orb marked with his name… and the mentioning of the Dark Lord.

He felt himself starting to move, breaking him from his resurfacing memories. He started spinning around, while he felt a sense of ascending. He looked up and gasped in astonishment and awe. He was slowly approaching a whirlpool of shimmering blue white energy. It looked familiar, but he couldn't remember ever seeing it before. Or could he? His mind flashed, almost literally, as blanketed memories resurfaced.

- - -

_Privet Drive, like the rest of the United Kingdom, suffered under the current heat wave, like it did last summer. This time, however, one didn't find Harry Potter hiding in the rosebushes under the window, trying to overhear the news. The Daily Prophet provided enough information, now that Voldemort's return had finally been acknowledged. The articles depicting Dumbledore and him as lunatics and dangers to the country, now had been replaced by gruesome reports of all the different attacks made by the Death Eaters. Others were going on about how Harry and Dumbledore were the true heroes, the lone voices of truth in the past year. The shocker was the article calling him the Chosen One._

_Chosen One…_

_It filled him with hate. Why? Why was he the Chosen One? Why had Dumbledore kept it from him? Even Voldemort knew more about it than him! It was useless to dwell on it now, though. Harry kicked a stone, when walking towards the shade offered by a tree in the park. He was alone, except a possible Order member nearby under an invisibility cloak. Most people preferred to stay indoors, close to their air conditioners, or lounging in or around their pools._

_The young wizard didn't have that luxury, for despite his relatives treating him with less disdain, or even outright hatred, after the Order's threats, he would still have been confined to his overly hot room. He was glad he was allowed outside. Sitting in his room, alone, would have made him think of Sirius again… the surprise on his face when he fell through the Veil, stunned, forever taken from Harry._

_The events in the Department of Mysteries still haunted his nightmares. And he didn't know if his friends were all right by now or blaming him… Owl post wasn't allowed, except the letter he had to send to the Order every three days. It did nothing to make him forget his anger at Dumbledore and the Order in general. He didn't hate them, but just thinking of them, how they, especially Dumbledore, locked him out and left him in the dark made his temper roar out, like it had done so spectacularly several times already in the past year. The only person who had wanted to inform him had been forbidden to do so and was no lost to him… forever._

_Sirius…_

_His anger at the Order and hatred for both Voldemort and Lestrange did help him by suppressing any sign of depression. He was too fired up to sit down and wallow in grief. It did nothing to break the boredom, though. With OWLs finished, there was no homework, and there was no possibility to practice magic, for the usual reason. Besides which, thanks to those same OWLs and the D.A. Harry was more than proficient in those spells he was interested in and that could be of use in fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. In Defense, he was even better than Hermione, at least in the practical portion of it._

_That day found Harry now sitting in the somewhat cooler shade of the oak tree. He was twirling his wand between his long, slender fingers. Because of the heat, he could not hide it up his sleeve, wearing a mere –oversized- T-shirt. And in his back pocket, the wand would be too far out of reach. He also remembered the words of Alastor Moody. The blowing-your-butt-cheeks-off comment brought a smile to his face. _

_Then, the bright summer's day was suddenly gone, as dark clouds appeared. It was as if night fell, and an ominous rumble sounded. The young wizard had a vivid flashback to last summer, almost a year ago. It had been Dementors back then. In a blur of movement, Harry stood straight, his wand pointed, the Patronus Charm on the tip of his tongue._

_Something, however, was different. There was no freezing cold. Instead, the heat turned into an almost unbearable, oppressive warmth, the herald of a thunderstorm. A strong one. But it was no mere thunderstorm. _

_Lightning arced across the sky. Harry watched, slowly inching away from the tree, as even he knew what happened when standing near one that was hit by lightning. He noticed something that was setting him on edge, and he started thinking of all the spells he would need when he ended up in danger. For the lightning seemed to be concentrating above the park, bolts of lightning closing in from all directions._

_Everything grew silent, eerily so. A sonic boom followed, as a massive burst of lightning shot down. Harry ducked instinctively, as it seemed to head in his direction But the lightning bolt never hit him, or anything else, for that matter. When Harry looked up moments later, he noticed something peculiar. The lightning apparently had stopped just above the ground and formed into a circle-shaped whirlpool of energy. _

_It lured him in. Harry knew it, yet he couldn't resist. It was like the Mirror of Erised all over again. Add to that his usual curiosity and it was no surprise the young wizard approached the shimmering pool of energy. There was not even time for a last thought, as he was roughly sucked into it._

- - -

Now that he had all his memories clear as day again, Harry came to a disturbing conclusion as to how he ended up here. 'Snape was right! I'm a foolish Gryffindor!' Unfortunately, that thought did not help his situation much, as he was still approaching that similar pool of energy in the black void. 'Knowing me, that probably won't take me home…'

Once more, he went through the uncomfortable sensation of being sucked in roughly and then… he landed on a cold tiled floor. Hard. Whatever that mode of transportation was, it had to be related to floo, Harry thought. However, his attention quickly shifted to his surroundings. He realized he wasn't up-to-date about the muggle world at all, but he appeared to be in some kind of futuristic lab.

Metallic tiles made up the floor, with more silvery metal glinting all around him, in the form of tables, closets and racks, holding books, computers, files and a lot of tools, instruments and equipment the young wizard didn't recognise at all. But that was not what drew his attention. Rather close behind him, was the floating whirlpool of energy. It was hit by bolts of electricity or lightning every few moments. Bolts originating from a small black device…

Not even that held his attention for long, as his sight was drawn to a struggle. A struggle watched by a guy that looked to be a scientist screaming obscenities and threats. Over the noise of the whirlpool, he could not make out what was said, except the more than one mentioning of the word "Freak".

The recipient was a tall, buff man, with black hair. Oddly enough, he was dressed in a skin-tight blue bodysuit, adorned by a red cape. Somewhat mindboggling, even after travelling though a hole of lightning, was the fact that he wore red underpants, over his suit. The situation, however, made Harry banish too much thinking about this, as the brightly clad guy was brawling with three other men. Those three could give Hagrid a run for his money in the size and apparently strength department, as one hit a wall, leaving a large, fist-shaped dent in it…

***

Harry scrambled to his feet, his wand, which he luckily still held in his hand, pointing at the fighting men and the supposed scientist. He didn't know what was going on, but he did know that, wherever he was, he didn't want to be involved. Though, the setting of the scene, in a high-tech muggle lab, made him doubt this had anything to do with Voldemort or any of his pure-blood followers.

The fighting went on. Blows were exchanged rapidly, more of the (steel) furniture was molested. People were tossed back several feet when hit by a punch. More punches and kicks missed or were blocked. It was mesmerising to watch the fight, the strength in the blows, almost visible to the naked eye. When it looked liked the three large men were losing, the scientist pulled a gun.

Ten load bangs echoed through the room, followed by a click. But the target was still up, just standing there, facing the scientist, a smug little smirk showing through, as the flattened bullets lay at his feet. The three men had recovered and now rushed the 'freak' again.

Harry stood in shock. Despite everything he already went through… this took the cake. A bullet proof guy? Punching through steel walls? Slowly he started backing away, trying to decide how to get out. Would he jump back into the whirlpool? Or find the nearest door and just run for it? As he had only seen one disk of energy in the black void, which brought him here, he was somewhat doubtful jumping in would be fruitful. Though, anything would be better than ending up in this mess…

His dilemma was solved for him, as one of the large men was punched hard by the brightly clad man. The massive body went flying back many feet… only to land on top of the black device, crushing it and the table it stood on. The whirlpool disappeared. That was not the bad part unfortunately, as with the disappearing, all people in the room turned to where it used to be and noticed him standing there.

Bollocks.

***

At a shouted command of the scientist, one of the strongly built men rushed towards the young wizard. A twirl of his wand, accompanied by an incantation, sent a powerful jet of red light at the approaching giant. A moment later, a thud was heard, as the man collapsed, unconscious.

Silence reigned once more.

The scientist looked beyond mad now, and Harry felt a shiver of fear run up his spine at the sight of the boiling hatred in those eyes.

"Kill the freaks!"

In a blur of colour, the red and blue clad men was standing next to him, as both thugs advanced on them. Now, warier of the wizard, they were moving quickly, dodging more of the red lights streaking towards them, as Harry cast stunner after stunner. When they were closer, the blue-clad man breathed in deeply and suddenly blew out a powerful gust of wind, slamming the two approaching man into the wall behind them.

With them locked in place, the stunners couldn't miss and they both slumped to the floor as well, unconscious, when the wind stopped. The man besides the wizard blurred again, disappearing from vision, before reappearing, the scientist slumping in his arms.

Emerald green eyes met unearthly blue.

His wand was still aimed, at the only other conscious person in the room this time. Despite the others attacking him first, there was no guarantee this was one of the good guys after all. All of this, everything that happened in the past ten minutes, was a big unknown to Harry. The only thing somewhat familiar was the guy's dress sense, which was similar in taste to Albus Dumbledore's. Meaning none whatsoever. Honestly! Blue spandex with a red cape and red and gold decorations? It was almost worse than a star-sprinkled purple dress… robe.


End file.
